Part 4: Beth

I sat in my car in the parking lot of the convenience store for quite a while. I had long since finished the wretched coffee that they offered, and I was lost in my thoughts. A wise man once said "never look a gift horse in the mouth," but that's exactly what I was doing. I had left my old surroundings only six days ago, and it was as if I had stepped through some portal into a parallel universe. I was living in a fantasy land of willing women and unlimited sex. I kept wondering when this was all going to come to a crashing halt and I would be returned to my mundane existence. The magic that had enhanced my short, new life seemed to continue without any assistance from me. I began to think I didn't really didn't need to do anything but hang on for the "ride."

When little kids misbehave, parents often give them what they refer to as a "time-out," a little private time alone to think about their behavior. I was pretty sure I needed a time-out. I certainly needed to think about my behavior. I also needed to try and figure out just who Leighton Philip Stephenson had become. I was certainly not the man who married Jocelyn Campbell ten years earlier. I may have been the guy who had the responsible and generally interesting job as an insurance investigator. I wasn't a virgin when I married Jocelyn, but I certainly didn't have the skills and know-how that I had picked up in the past six days.

When our marriage petered out and was put to a merciful end, I made the biggest decision of my life. I quit my job, "cashed in my chips," took a sabbatical from my old life, and went looking for a new one. In my back pocket I had a job offer from Orca Investigations that would be at least as interesting as my old job and probably more so. My old friend, Pete Dennison, had been pestering me to join them, but because he understood my need to escape for a while, his boss was holding the offer open indefinitely. You just can't lose when you have friends like Pete.

But back to my problem. Now I realize not every guy would think of the last six days of my life as a problem. In fact, they would probably think I was paranoid, or at least mildly psychotic for complaining about what had occurred. But the truth is, my life during this past six days bore no resemblance to my life for the previous thirty-four years.

I had lived a pretty plain-vanilla existence and I acted as any normal working husband would. I got up, shit, shaved, showered, had breakfast, brushed my teeth, drove to work, came home had dinner, watched some TV or read a book and went to bed. Once or twice a week I would make love to my wife, and other than the weekends, that was pretty much my every day life.

When I broke that bond with my routine, everything changed. Maybe it hadn't all happened this week, but the really weird stuff had. My encounters with Constance, Glynnis, Sophia, and Anna were sequential and almost, it seemed, inevitable. It was as if they had been preordained. Now, I know it sounds goofy, but that's how it appeared to me.

So to save my sanity and try to find an answer to this conundrum, I was going to abstain from interaction with females for at least a few days. I hadn't decided on how many, but I thought it would be more than two. I also decided I would start to keep a diary of my travels and adventures. It would be a way of recounting this strange voyage, while giving me something to keep me occupied at the same time. Decision made, I headed for my next destination point, Fairmont Hot Springs.

The Mountain Meadows B & B was an Alpine style home with three guest suites in the loft, each with an ensuite. When I phoned that morning, there was one room available and I immediately booked it. I was a bit surprised at how busy they were, but I remembered that the area was known for corporate retreats. Nestled right in the heart of the Rockies, the skiing would last considerably longer than nearer the coast.

I arrived in mid-afternoon and checked in with the hostess, Sandra Melling. As usual, this was a family business, and while they preferred I didn't check in until four o'clock, I was given a break since the room was ready and they were almost finished with their chores. I dropped my bag and laptop in my room, surveyed the facilities, grabbed my digital camera, and left to explore the area.

It was a fairly cloudy day and the mountains were somewhat obscured with a low overcast, but it was easy to see the attraction of the area. The Rockies are majestic at any time, and the magnitude of the rock faces and upheavals from so many millions of years ago is always spectacular. I felt pretty insignificant in these surroundings.

I drove around the little town and found a couple of likely restaurants. I had booked my room for three nights in anticipation of my hiatus from hedonism. The town was pretty small, and I hoped I could find enough things to fill my time. Just before five, I headed back for Mountain Meadows to start my diary and record some thoughts. It didn't take long to get going, and when I looked up at the clock on the wall it was almost seven. I took a break and headed off toward town. I ate by myself, pen and notebook by my side to record any thoughts or remembrances of these past few weeks, and more importantly, the last six days.

I was oblivious of my surroundings in the restaurant. I was seated by a young lady of nondescript features and my waitress was equally forgettable. Good! I wasn't distracted, and neither they nor I were likely to fall under whatever spell had been cast. I finished my meal and as I was savoring the remains of a nice Chilean red, I looked around at the other patrons. Besides the nearby young woman, there were two older couples at different tables, another table of four younger people, and that was it. There was nothing to command my attention. I finished the wine and signaled the waitress for the check and prepared to leave. Then, as I looked up, an absolutely stunning young woman walked in, looked around, saw me, nodded and smiled.

As Jack Nicholson so aptly put it, "I was just inches from a clean getaway." I sat frozen in place. I felt powerless to move; certainly to leave. She was a dazzling redhead of about thirty years and she was tall. Very tall. Her hair was long and very curly, her face was that perfect oval shape every woman wishes for, and there was a lovely sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her long, aquiline nose and the tops of her cheeks. She was lean, yet still very voluptuous. A nice hip flare that was accented by a tight, long, grey wool skirt, while her more-than-adequate breasts were snugly confined in a dark forest-green sweater. A wide black belt and black low heels were the only accents on this beauty and they were more than enough. On top of all that, she looked vaguely familiar.

She was by herself and she sat at a table that was directly in front of me, giving me a complete view of her in profile. It was now a battle of wills. Could I simply pay the bill and leave, or would I be tempted to introduce myself and see what effect my new powers would have on her. Incredibly, my waitress chose that very moment to bring my bill and stand directly in front of me, blocking my view of the mystery woman. Damn! Well, it was the excuse I needed. I pulled out some bills, left a reasonable tip and walked to the exit. I turned briefly to look back at her one more time, sighed, and left. I had managed a small but important victory.

I returned to my room in the loft and opened my laptop. I reread my musings from the afternoon and thought for a moment about where to continue. There was so much to say, and the only path to take was to record it all and edit from there. I set to it and by ten I had fifteen pages of notes, comments, remembrances, and observations. Mountain Meadows was equipped with wireless and I surfed around for a few minutes, gathering the news and checking my e-mail. I signed off for the night and went to bed. I was asleep in seconds.

I awoke with the realization that it was Saturday morning and my one week anniversary was upon me. I had finally put one night behind me that had been free of sexual involvement with a woman. One down, two to go. Go ahead, laugh! Everyone has to have a goal in life. Mine was to avoid having sex for three nights in a row. Doesn't sound like much, does it? Well, we'll see.

I joined the other three guests for breakfast, and as usual lately, I ate more than I was accustomed to. The food was great and irresistible, so I didn't resist. I went back to my room and resumed my diary where I had left off the night before. I banged out my thoughts on the almost silent keyboard for an hour or so and then hit save, picked up my jacket and headed out to the car.

I slipped into the seat, started the engine and then just sat there. I had no idea where to go so I pulled out my topographical map of B.C. and had a look at where I was and what was nearby. I found a back road up a valley to what appeared to be an open area, and since the weather was good I decided to try my luck up there and do a bit of hiking. After all, I needed the exercise. I'd had enough breakfast to last me until supper time, so there was no need for anything but water and I could pick that up along the way.

When I got to the end of the narrow, rough road, I was surprised to see a mid-size SUV parked off in an open area of grass, so I parked my Outback nearby. I grabbed a couple of water bottles and started to walk up the incline of the meadow. There was no one in sight, but since it was a big meadow, that wasn't surprising. I walked for a half hour or so, stopping now and then to take some pictures of the marvelous scenery.

It wasn't a few minutes later that I came over a rise and spotted a figure ahead of me. At first I couldn't tell if it was coming or going, but soon I realized it wasn't moving at all. As I got closer, there was something familiar about this person, and a couple of minutes later I was sure of what it was. I was also sure of whom it was. The tall redhead was standing in a field of alpine flowers and looked to be making notes on a pad. I was pretty sure it was the woman from the restaurant, and as I got closer, that was confirmed. I realized she wasn't making notes, but sketching with a pencil. I made enough noise so that I didn't startle her and continued to approach.

She looked up in surprise as I came toward her from the side. That same big smile broke out on her face as she apparently recognized me as well.

"Hi," I said with a smile.

"Hi ... you're a long way from home," she said casually.

I wasn't sure what exactly she meant. My old home was certainly a long way away. Other than last night, I didn't have any sense that I had met her before. I was confused.

"I'm sorry ... have we met before?"

"I'm not surprised you don't remember, Lee." She held out her hand and I took it. "I'm Beth Jorgenson. I'm Brian Tennyson's P.A."

"Oh, Beth ... of course. I apologize for not recognizing you." Brian Tennyson was my former employer's executive vice president. I saw him seldom in the course of my work, and would have only seen Beth Jorgenson in passing.

"No apology necessary," she smiled as she casually examined me. "You're a bit of a celebrity around the office."

"How so?"

"You quit a great job just before they were about to promote you to department head. You just told them you needed some time and space and that you likely wouldn't be back," she said with a rueful smile. "Not many guys have the guts to do that."

"Well ... there were special circumstances," I suggested.

"You mean your wife?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ex-wife."

"I'm sorry, that was thoughtless and inconsiderate of me," she said.

"Not a problem. It was a bloodless parting."

"And then you vanished."

"Well, I don't know about vanished. You found me," I chuckled.

"True. When I saw you at the restaurant last night, I was surprised. I thought you might have headed for some glamour spot like Las Vegas or the Riviera."

"Why would you think that?" I was curious about what she was thinking.

"A handsome, available young man with great prospects, looking to forget? Maybe it's what I would do in the same circumstances."

"Uhhhmmm." It was as non-committal as I could be. I was beginning to sense that strange feeling again. Where was this encounter heading? She was such a commanding presence. She was very tall, perhaps two or three inches taller than me, but she was undoubtedly very feminine. Was she coming on to me? Was it starting all over again?

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Yeah ... I guess."

"Well ... I'm used to it. I usually intimidate the men I meet."

"It's not intimidation," I said bluntly, and perhaps with a bit more force than I had intended.

"Oh ... so ... what is it then?" She challenged me without hesitation.

"Long story ... no ... that's not right. Short story ... six days long."

"Good. Short stories are easy to remember." She was grinning during this banter.

"Sorry ... not for public consumption." I turned away, looking to change the topic. "You were sketching. Is it your hobby?" I asked, turning back to her.

"Yes. I sketch, and then I paint."

"Here, or at a studio?"

"Here ... if the weather allows. Otherwise, I take a picture and use that to help my memory."

"You've walked a long way for a painting."

"I didn't realize how far. I just kept moving until I thought I was in the right place to get the image I wanted. I guess I was dazzled by the scenery and forgot where I was."

"Well ... I'm here to help. What can I get you?"

"Nothing ... except ... Uhhhmmm ... I could use a drink of water," she said, eyeing my two bottles.

"Of course. Please help yourself." I passed one of the bottles to her. When her hand touched mine, I felt that tingling feeling again. Shit! Here we go again!

"Why are you so ... wary of me?" she asked out of the blue.

"Same short story ... same reason for no answer."

"Bullshit!" she spat without venom. She had my undivided attention.

"What's the matter, never heard a woman swear before?"

"Nope ... I mean yes ... I've heard women swear before. I'm just wondering what the big deal is."

"I think I intimidate you. You think I'm too big or too pushy or too ... something," she said, not looking at me as she resumed sketching.

I laughed out loud. "Lady, I'm an investigator. I see the seedy side of life way more often than you would realize. I am definitely not intimidated."

"Not the same," she said simply, continuing with her sketch. "Some men are overwhelmed by some women. It's an ego and comfort thing. Trust me ... this I know."

"Well ... for the record ... you don't frighten me or intimidate me," I stated flatly. "You can take that to the bank."

"OK ... so let's say I believe you. Why don't we get together tonight for a drink?" She was still concentrating on her sketch.

I hesitated and turned toward me. "See ... I told you so."

"No ... No ... tonight's fine. I'm sorry. I can't explain why, but I'm being very cautious right now." It wasn't a lie. It just wasn't all the truth.

"The divorce?" She had gone back to her sketch.

"Something like that."

"Cheer up, Lee. You'll get over it. The statistics are in your favor." She said it with a smile in her voice.

I was pretty sure I was sunk. My plan for three days of celibacy looked pretty dim. She was coming on strong and she wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer. On the other hand, she was gorgeous. I had often fantasized about tall women and here one was being delivered to me. It was that "gift horse" thing again. Ah, what the hell. Who was it going to harm?

"So ... how long are you up here for?" I asked.

"A week. It's one of my vacation weeks and Brian is away on business, so I get a week of peace."

A week with this woman would be a challenge. "Where are you staying?"

"I've got a time share that I use for a month each year. This is week two."

"It's a lovely area. I can see why you'd like it."

"What are you doing for dinner?" she asked. Nothing like being direct and to the point, I thought.

"Ahhhh ... nothing special. I'm here on my own."

"Good ... why don't you let me feed you?"

Well, I thought in resignation, I might as well just surrender. "That's very kind of you. I'd love to join you," I said without really realizing my double entendre.

I thought I heard her snort, but I wasn't sure. "I'm just about done. We can walk back to our cars together if you like."

"Fine."

She packed up her little kit and put it in a small backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She was wearing a light cotton t-shirt in pale green with an art design on the front. Her lovely breasts made sure I couldn't see all of the design. Her shorts were snug and the long, perfectly tapered legs that fell from her fabulous hips were on full display. She had a slight tan from somewhere. Although today was an unusually warm day for this time of year, the tan wouldn't have come from here.

We strolled together down the meadow toward the cars. She seemed to be happy to be close to me and I didn't discourage her. I was going to bask in the company of this woman just as I had relished the company of the others I had met this past week. If I couldn't control it, I might as well just surrender and enjoy it. If it was a fantasy, it was my fantasy, and a damn fine one at that.

When we reached the cars, she told me where her condo was and suggested I come over at seven. I smiled my agreement and said I would see her then. As I slipped into my car, I realized I hadn't touched her other than the brief handshake when we met. I had a suspicion that would be corrected this evening. I began to imagine just what this woman would look like naked and in my arms. I had reason to believe I would find out tonight.

When I arrived at Beth's just before seven, I was surprised at how nice her condo was. It was clearly a cut above the ordinary. I wondered how she could afford something this elegant. From our conversation this afternoon, I got the impression she didn't have anyone as a steady boyfriend.

When she opened the door, I'm sure my jaw dropped. She was wearing a low cut, black top sprinkled with small reflecting bits that would be dazzling if it weren't for the competition from her cleavage. Her skirt was the same tightly packaged gray wool from the previous evening. She was barefoot, and I wondered if that was for me or just for comfort. She looked fantastic. The hair, the eyes, the freckles, the breasts, and the long legs. It was damned unfair. She had her share of looks and a few others' share as well. I was getting that swell feeling in my pants. You know the one -- the one that sometimes you try to hide and other times you try to show.

She wore that lovely smile and I felt very welcome. I followed her into the living room and my opinion of the outside was reinforced by the inside. This was one classy place. The finest in modern furnishings, hardwood floors decorated with what appeared to be Persian rugs, decor featuring crystal and various objet d'art, as well as paintings hung in strategic places. In other words, high rent! This didn't seem to be the playground for a personal assistant, but what did I know. This was out of my league.

"I'm impressed. This is quite the spectacular place. Not what I would have expected," I said in admiration.

"Well, it's not mine. I just get to use it. It belongs to a guy who has the hots for me," she laughed.

"So, what's the problem? I thought you intimidated men."

"Well ... this is different. He's married and he won't be leaving her anytime soon. It's her money," she said in a nonchalant tone.

"Ah hah! Just as I thought, a kept woman," I laughed.

She laughed with me. It was obviously not a sensitive issue with her. "Well, we all have our failings, Lee."

"I'm having real trouble with the idea that you intimidate men, and that it interferes with your relationships with men. You are a very beautiful woman and I can't believe you haven't got a boatload of guys banging on your door."

"Well, I wish it were so, but it isn't. Maybe I'm hard to handle. Maybe my standards are too high. Maybe I'm just unlucky. Who knows?"

Well, never let it be said that I wasn't interested. "So, I guess you have to decide whether I can meet your standards or whether you just got lucky," I said with my newly acquired self-confidence.

"Not so fast, buster. We haven't had dinner yet," she smirked.

"Point taken. Lead me to your kitchen."

She strolled -- and I do mean strolled -- into the kitchen area and it was just as elegant and modern as the rest of the condo. A restaurant-sized stove and oven, a meat-locker-sized refrigerator/freezer and everything in stainless steel. There was food on the island and food on the counter and she was serious about cooking dinner. I surveyed the fixings and determined that this was no ordinary meat and potatoes dinner. I spotted some fresh, hand-peeled shrimp, a loin of lamb and the some sort of special rice dish. There were fresh green beans and assorted other vegetables on a separate plate. I smiled to myself, knowing that I was going to be well looked after.

I was right, of course. There was no reason to doubt it. It's just the way things had been ordained in the past week. I was getting an erection just thinking of how well things were progressing. Beth was spectacular and I was bulletproof. What was left to chance? Nothing!

So, imagine my surprise when we had dinner, some wine, a lovely light dessert, a long, interesting conversation about a variety of topics and then ... she said it was time for me to say goodnight! What the hell? This isn't the normal script. I have to go? Well, considering all the other crazy things that had happened in the past week, why should I be surprised? I accepted my fate reluctantly, but acted like a man and kissed her cheek, thanked her profusely for the wonderful dinner, and said I hoped to see her again.

I drove back to my B & B in a state of mild shock. Perhaps I was being unrealistic. Perhaps this past week had given me delusions of grandeur. Perhaps I had screwed up with Beth. I didn't think so, and she didn't seem to indicate anything was amiss, but I wasn't so sure. What about all that byplay in the afternoon and at the condo? As I let myself into my room, I realized I didn't have her phone number. I knew where she was and I knew she would be there until next weekend, but that might be a bit awkward. Hmmm? This was a switch.

I slept fitfully that night. I had dreams about a naked Beth and a number of positions I could imagine myself being in as I made love to her. Unfortunately, they were just dreams. I recognized that I was committed to seducing her, or at least letting her seduce me. Whatever worked! So much for my celibacy. Screw that! I wanted Beth and I was going to let my new-found powers take over.

I had my usual good appetite the next morning and once again, I overindulged at breakfast. I was tempted to head back up to the meadow and see if Beth was there. It was a reasonable possibility with another sunny, spring day ahead. I decided against it however. I had only one more night to achieve my temporary celibacy goal, and Beth would be here for the rest of the week. I had checked with the hostess, and my room would be available until Thursday if I wanted to extend my stay. I told her I would let her know tomorrow morning.

I decided on a day trip up the highway to Radium Hot Springs. Despite the fact that it was an overly-popular tourist spot, I had fond memories of Radium from my childhood. It was a regular stop for our family on our way back from visiting the grandparents in Calgary. It was only a few minutes drive from Fairmont, and I set off at mid-morning. I spent the rest of the morning wandering around the old haunt, had a light snack for lunch, enjoyed a glass of wine in the early spring sunshine, and finally, just after three o'clock, got back into my car and turned back toward Fairmont.

I would be passing the road to the meadow where Beth had been sketching, and I toyed with the idea of checking to see if she was there. It was a mental coin toss, and by the time I approached the cut-off to the old road I had decided on heads; I would check the place out. I drove up the rough track slowly and I wasn't really surprised that her SUV was parked in the same spot as yesterday. I got out, considered my options, looked at my watch, shrugged my shoulders, and began walking up the incline toward where she was yesterday.

I didn't have very far to walk. She was just over the rise of the first hill, and this time she was sitting on a small stool and had an easel in front of her. She was obviously painting in the scene she had sketched yesterday. Again, I didn't want to startle her, so I moved out wide to give her some warning that I was near. She must have picked me up fairly quickly as I saw her head turn and look toward me. She was wearing a wide brimmed straw hat and a different shorts and t-shirt outfit from yesterday. She looked just as dazzling today as she did then.

She waved in recognition and then turned back to her painting as I walked toward her.

"I wondered if you'd come looking for me."

"It was a coin toss."

"Who won?"

"I did, of course," I chuckled.

"Figures." She hadn't looked away from her painting the entire time I had been there and she was concentrating on something, making sure it was just right. I looked at what she had done so far and it looked very good and very professional. I decided to remain quiet while she worked.

"I brought my own water this time. Would you like some?" she asked.

"Thanks, I'm fine for now."

"So I guess this means you really aren't intimidated by me."

"I guess."

"Wanna do dinner again?"

"Sure ... why not?"

"Wanna fool around later?"

"Sure ... why not?" I repeated. She had this way with words; an economical and to-the-point way.

"Can you cook?" She still hadn't turned away from her painting.

"Yup."

"Good."

"Are you going to be here for a while yet?"

"Nope. Light's going and I'm getting stiff. I'll be done in two minutes."

"I'll stick around and give you a hand with your gear."

"Thanks."

We walked together down the slope of the meadow toward our vehicles, chatting about our day.

"Do you paint only landscapes?" I asked.

"Pretty much. I'm not very good at human forms. They are very complex and I don't seem to be able to get them just right for my own satisfaction."

"I remember being in a modern art gallery a while back. There was a painting; quite bold colors and very much impressionistic. It wasn't a large canvas, but there was a form ... a woman's form. It was just three or four lines on the canvas, but it was the unmistakable outline of a beautiful woman. No face, no arms, just a form. I've never forgotten it."

"If I could paint like that, I would have been in that gallery too. It's what separates real artists from hobbyists like me."

"I like your work ... or at least what I've seen of it," I said quickly.

"A half finished canvas isn't much to see."

"What I could see ... I was impressed. You have talent ... but I get the impression you don't like to take chances," I said carefully.

"What makes you say that?"

"Your subjects ... no danger ... no risk ... pleasant pictures of pleasant scenes," I said. "I hope that doesn't offend you."

She stopped and turned to me. "So ... in your opinion, what should I be painting?"

"Things that frighten you. Things that challenge you. Things that threaten you. Things that are difficult?" I was speaking with more boldness than I felt.

"You've got some pretty strong opinions."

"Yeah ... sorry. I'm used to seeing a lot of artwork. My father is an artist ... or at least he was."

"Was?"

"Early onset Parkinson's Disease."

"Oh ... I'm sorry. What kind of art did he produce?"

"He was an illustrator. Mostly black on white, with brush."

She looked at me and then a puzzled look came over her. "Is your father Gordon Stephenson?"

"Yes."

"He's brilliant. I love his work. I have two of his prints in my home," she gushed. "You must be very proud."

"Yes. I admire his talent. Unfortunately, it isn't hereditary."

"Yeah ... I know. My mother is a musician. I haven't got a musical bone in my body."

"Ah ... art ... music ... they come under the heading of special talents. They are all gifts to be nurtured and developed," I said pompously.

"Very deep ... very perceptive. I've decided. You can stay." She was laughing at me.

"Thanks ... so long as you understand that I just gave you a classic example of bullshit baffles brains."

"Yeah ... but it was high quality bullshit," she laughed again.

"Can't fool you ... can I?"

"Oh hell ... keep trying ... that's the fun of it."

It was a light and fun conversation that we were both enjoying. This was a bright and very alive woman. Her physical presence and charm were obvious, but her mind was always working, and based on our conversation last night, and the bit of byplay this afternoon, she could hold her own in any company. She was a worthy opponent and a treat to be with.